HE SONG OF 
HE BROOK 




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ROBINSON 



THE 

SONG OF THE BROOK. 



INTRODUCTORY BY 
THE REV. HUGH JOHNSTON, D. D. 

OF THE — — 

Woman's College of Baltimore. 



ILLUSTRATED BY E. O. JONES. 



Copyright 1904, by Jno. G. RoBlNsoN, 16.% N. Calvert St. 
BALTIMORE, MD. 



LIBRARY of congress! 


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PREFACE 



In launching this little craft upon the great ocean of 
literature, the author is aware of the many obstacles to be 
met, and the perils which threaten the unskilled and timid 
mariner upon his first voyage; but with a consiousness of 
a purpose to awaken a 'true response in every heart to the 
sentiments which I have gleaned from Nature's teeming 
harvest fields, I commit this little song to the tender mer- 
cies of public favor. 

THE AUTHOR. 



INTRODUCTORY. 



My friend, Mr. J. G. Robinson, is so modest and unassum- 
ing that it was only after an acquaintance of six years that 
I discovered that he possessed the poetic fire, the "gift and 
faculty divine. " I learned this when he gave me some of his 
versification to read. Among the poems was "The Song of 
THE Brook." This little poem, beautifully illustrated, re- 
veals a gift of vision, an insight into and a happy description 
of nature that is far beyond the ordinary. What is the poet 
but a prophet announcing high truths ? This booklet will 
well repay reading. It is not only full of music and beauty, 
but of manliness and strength, of vividness and insight, of 
sentiment and piety. 

It is no small thing for a man considerably past the merid- 
ian of life, amid constant business activities, to find relaxa- 
tion in the high art of poetry, to live in constant sympathy 
with the beauty and truth that is in nature and in the spiritual 
depths of man's soul. 

May this little book of song make music wherever it goes. 

HUGH JOHNSTON. 
Baltimore, March 15th, 1904. 



®I|^ ^mg, of tl]? Irnok. 



BY J. G. ROBINSON. 



Little sparkling, laughing brook, 
Joyous in thy morning song- 
Washing every craggy nook 
In thy course while flowing on. 




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Come and teach me thy true song; 

Help me learn the secret power 
Of thy music all day long, 

'Neath the woodlands' shady bower. 



Listen then and heed it well; 

I the truth will now unfold, 
As through moss and fern clad dell 

I the story oft have told. 

From my ocean cradle bed 
'Mid the surging billows foam, 

I on misty pinions sped 
To a far off sunlit home. 



Let me take you to that home 
In the chambers of the skies; 

Whence I came to Earth, to roam 
On a mission, good and wise. 



In those airy realms above, 
Clad in fleecy vestments bright 

Guarded by a Father's love, 
I first saw the dawn of light. 

And its rays with magic power 
Thrilled my soul, as down they fell 

On the Earth, a golden shower, 
Painting there my form so well. 




As I upward turned my gaze 
To its face so pure and bright. 

All the beauty of its rays 
Flashed upon my ravished sight; 



And with love inspired I cried; 

0! thou peerless orb of light 
What's my mission? It replied 

With a smile serenely bright; 

Follow every ray of mine 
With a joyous song of love, 

Go to every land and clime 
Singing of your home above. 




Tell them of your Father's love, 
Of your matchless purity; 

Thus, your mission from above 
Teach to all men faithfully. 



So obediently I came 

To my home upon the earth; 
In the dew drop, in the rain, 

In the snow 'mid winter's mirth. 

And the song I daily sing 

Is the grandest song of earth, 

Let its praise then loudly ring, 
That each lip may speak its worth. 



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The grand theme of my great song 

In obedience is found, 
I am happy all day long 

As I wander 'round and 'round— 



Down the mountain's lofty height, 
Through the medows clad in green, 

Making music day and night 
As I brighten every scene. 



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Here the thirsty cattle sip 
Of my stream while flowing on! 

And the swallows in me dip 
To refresh them for their song! 

Here the scaly tribe abound 
Sporting all the happy hours, 

In my Sylvan depths profound 
'Mid reflected blooming flowers, 



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Which in rich profusion grow 
On my verdant mossy banks, 

Watered by my overflow — 
Giving forth their perfumed thanks. 



And the dew-drops slumb'ring there 
Dreaming of Nocturnal bliss, 

Are transformed to fragrant prayer 
By the Day-god's morning kiss. 

Water lilies, where I'm still, 
Peer above my placid breast, 

To display the golden skill 
Folded in their snowy vest. 




Drawing from me life and bloom 

Beauty, fragrance, form and grace- 
Ministers, amid life's gloom 
From the Father's smiling face. 



How they speak to us of love 
Pure and beautiful as light, 

Coming from his home above 
Fragrant messengers in white, 

Floating on my bosom fair 
Voiceless — yet they speak to n 

Of His presence everywhere 
Shaping human destiny. 




Thus I brighten every spot 

Where the foot of man hath trod- 
Save the desert — drear and hot—! 

Where I must "obey the rod." 



While the Pilgrims stop and drink 
To refresh them on their way 

E're they reach the Jordan's brink, 
Goal of interest day by day. 






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How I'm sought by every thing 
On the land or in the sea! 

Do you wonder that I sing 
Songs of thrilling melody! 



Lads and Lassies day by day 
Come to listen to my song; 

And the music of my lay 

Blends their tender souls in one. 

Birdies bright on swiftest wing 
Seek me in my cool retreat; 

Take a tiny draught and sing 
Of my praise sublimely sweet. 




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Thus I gladden all the earth, 
Scattering blessings as 1 go — 

Telling of my noble birth 
As I ever onward flow. 



To the ocean deep and wide 
Where my secret power dwells 

There my treasures all abide 
And from out my bosom swells 




Gratitude and Praise to Him 
Whose divine and gracious hand 

Called me fourth that I might sing 
This sweet song to every land. 



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